


A Most Welcome Turn of Events

by stellacadente



Series: The Forgotten Empire [1]
Category: Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M, KOTET au, Knights of the Eternal Throne, Knights of the Eternal Throne Spoilers, Knights of the Fallen Empire, Knights of the Fallen Empire Spoilers, KotFE AU, Not sure where this will eventually fit in
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-08-09 06:13:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7789777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellacadente/pseuds/stellacadente
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An Alternate Universe wherein all of our missing companions return before the end of KOTET, most of them between the first Battle of Odessen and the beginning of KOTET.</p><p>This story will be updated in 2018 as part of a series to connect all of KOTFE and KOTET.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Most Welcome Reunion

Seven jumps in five days. Seven landings, seven times assessing situations, seven times deploying resources, seven times re-boarding the shuttle and continuing the hunt. Four times doing actual battle with hostiles, all of them Skytroopers and a small contingent of Knights.

SCORPIO was onto something, of that Xhareen and her entire Alliance leadership was certain. Whether Vaylin was involved was another matter entirely. Zakuul’s new empress seemed obsessed with finding Arcann and her mother, the traitor Senya. Most of the galaxy enjoyed a brief respite from her random displays of violence while under Arcann’s rule.

But new reports of increased Skytrooper activity had intrigued Theron, who quickly found a pattern, though no rationale. So here they were, a long way from Odessen. Xhareen wasn’t even sure where. She turned to Pierce, who was technically the leader of this operation, even if he and everyone else deferred to her, their Commander.

It was still odd and off-putting at times, having former Imperial admirals and Republic generals and even Senators showing her such deference. Xhareen tried to be the best listener, and Maker knows she had mediated half a million interpersonal and inter-factional disputes in these past months since Lana had freed her from a trophy wall deep below Zakuul. And she made the difficult decisions when she had to, even if it cost innocent lives.

After the “Battle of Odessen” as it was now called, Xhareen had vowed to take a step back from day to day missions. But when the Voss mystic Sana Rae told Xhareen she needed to follow this path, she gladly pulled her armor out and was the first to board the shuttle.

“Hitting atmo now, Commander.” It was Pierce, jolting her back to the present.

“I’ve lost track, Major. Where in the six hells are we?”

He rubbed his eyes. “I nearly have, too, my lord. But the screen says Balmorra.”

Balmorra. _Where I found the one person who mattered most_. Now all she expected to find was Skytroopers, if they were lucky.

~~~~~~

If Pierce remembered why Balmorra was important to her, he didn’t show it. He had bloomed as a soldier on Odessen, and had things well in control now. She’d utilized Pierce’s talents and his imposing presence to get Major Jorgan back in line after the debacle at the hyperwave relay station.

“OK, we’ve cleared the atmosphere. All four shuttles report no damage. Getting a planetside sitrep. There appears to be a big engagement near a plant about 10 kliks south of the old Imperial base at Sobrik.”

Xhareen knew immediately what that meant. SCORPIO’s trail was predictable, even if no one could divine her reasons. She’d shut down droid-making operations on three of the worlds they’d visited so far, and bombed two advanced cybernetics labs elsewhere. It seemed specious for a being that considered droids no more advanced compared to her than a trash bin was to a SP-R0 droid. “It’s the Okara Droid Factory. For some reason, the Star Fortress left it intact when it subdued the planet years ago.”

The same could not be said of the Balmorran Arms Factory, but even though half of the complex was in shambles, Balmorran Resistance and Republic personnel had continued to use it in defiance of the arms limitation treaty so unwelcomely accepted by the leaders of the conquered factions.

After doing whatever they could here, Xhareen vowed to check the factory. _What if_ … she’d have to think about that later.

Several hundred Skytroopers, and what appeared to be a score of Knights, were converging on the factory with no apparent air support. Clearly, something had ignited between the locals and a nearby Zakuul garrison well before reinforcements could arrive. Xhareen would make sure the small strike force took control of the situation. She had the manpower and all in attendance had the training for that. What she had to leave to the Force was the hope that the six Republic battle cruisers made it here before any of the Eternal Fleet did.

Given that there was a single battle line, the shuttles prepared to land to the southeast of the factory entrance, well behind the line of defenders. Like many such structures on the planet, it was built into the side of a mountain, making it impossible to attack on more than one front.

The four shuttles moved into formation and made short work of the Skytroopers and Knights. When all was quiet, Xhareen ordered what had become standard protocol for contacting locals: a broadcast made by Admirals Aygo and Ranken.

“People of the Republic and the Empire. These commandeered vessels are here to help. We represent an Alliance dedicated to ending the Eternal Empire and Zakuul’s illegal occupation of our planets.”

Protocol then deemed that a few soldiers from each side, a Sith and a Jedi would debark, weapons quiet, and make contact. The fighters guarding the factory had fled for cover when the shuttles started mowing down the competition, but they were now starting to emerge and headed for the landing zone.

“I need to be out there, Pierce.” It was a command, not a request, but Xhareen knew Pierce would understand.

“As much as I want to go with, I’ll stay and keep on guard for stragglers or any newcomers, Commander.”

The former Jedi Battlemaster, a Twi’lek woman named Gislaran, and a few troops from each shuttle would accompany her. She’d met Gislaran back on Yavin 4 when the young Jedi Knight helped lead the Republic wing of the assault on Revan’s fortress. Xhareen had sensed a dark presence in her and learned from Theron that Gislaran had been “a guest” of Vitiate’s, and that her padawan was a former Child of the Emperor.

Although she’d triumphed over Vitiate – indeed, she’d been the one to slay his physical form on Dromund Kaas, Theron had told Xhareen -- Gislaran had officially fallen out of favor with the Jedi Council due to her strident support for Twi’lek freedom and criticism of Republic compliance and Jedi passivity regarding slavery. If for no other reason, she and Xhareen became friends quickly.

She was a brilliant fighter and strong in the Force, even if she wasn’t pure enough to pass the Grandmaster’s muster. She’d been one of the first Jedi to arrive on Odessen – guided there by the Force like so many others.

She’d confessed to Xhareen early on that Master Shan had pegged her as a “nearly fallen Jedi,” but that her status had been protected by her strong ties to the Republic military. Xhareen was pleased to have a kindred spirit on board, and Gislaran’s reunion with Admiral Aygo had been genuinely warm.

And she’d be glad to have Gislaran’s two sabers if this encounter went bad. As soon as the ships’ weapons had quieted, Xhareen felt another strong Dark Side presence that seemed vaguely familiar.

Their team assembled near the shuttles, they moved to approach the rag tag group defending the factory. Nearly two-thirds of them were Twi’leks, so Xhareen told Gislaran to take point and make first contact.

None of which was necessary because a brown-skinned soldier threw off his helmet and shouted “Sith! It’s good to see you!”

It took her a moment to stretch her mind back, also to Yavin, but she quickly remembered him.

“Felix? Felix Iresso!”

A huge grin broke across his handsome face. “Boy, somebody’s going to be happy to see you, but I’m not gonna spoil the surprise.”

“Well, I know someone you’ll be happy to know is well, too.”

His voice went quiet. “Dhavana. She’s OK, then.” Felix had been so obviously in love with the Barsen’thor, who clearly cared for him, too. But Dhavana had been unwilling to break the Jedi ban on personal relationships, and both were equally unwilling to leave each other’s company. Something after the Zakuul attacks must have driven them apart. Xhareen had only contacted her briefly once, and there was no time to catch up on personal business. Everything else was done through intermediaries, since Xhareen couldn’t trust anyone, the Empire included, with keeping their hands off her properties and her secret accounts.

“Yeah, she’s holding up my interests on Tatooine,” she said, unsure if knowing or not knowing Dhavana's whereabouts was better for him. Xhareen had let her unusual friend spend as much time as she wanted at the Tatooine property, and she and Quinn had discussed at length having her as a contingent overseer of their affairs if they had to leave the Empire for any reason. He relented eventually, since he couldn't come up with a better suggestion. 

Besides, if anyone, even a Jedi, could resist the amorous intentions of the man in front of her now, then she could be trusted with a few million credits and a former Hutt stronghold. She’d broken all contacts with the Council after Coruscant acquiesced to Zakuul, and left a trail that made it seem like she’d fled to the Rishi Maze.

She’d been the last person Quinn had contacted before he disappeared from Dromund Kaas, apparently. It was through the stronghold’s communications array that Quinn's plaintive email she’d uncovered after getting free from Arcann’s carbonite wall had been stored and delivered, four or five years after being sent.

“Listen, I want to catch up on everything but we need to speak to whomever’s in charge here.”

He nodded. “Yep, that’s where I’m going to take you now.”

Instead of heading through one of the former entrances, though, Felix pounded out a rhythmic beat on the durasteel pavement in the center of the structure’s front. When a different rhythmic beat replied, he stood back and a large panel opened.

A blonde woman with an austere bun and a Havoc Squad captain’s armor emerged. “What happened out here, Lieutenant? We were monitoring the fighting when it stopped all of a sudden and …” She caught sight of Xhareen, Gislaran and the strange band of soldiers standing right past the tunnel opening. “Who is this?” she demanded in a decidedly Imperial accent.

Xhareen answered before anyone else could speak. “You’re Commander Dorne’s daughter, the one who defected all those years ago.”

“That’s right, Sith. What of it?”

“Your father is a good man. He …”

“You mean was a good man. He died in the initial attacks on Dromund Kaas.”

Xhareen figured it was going to be hard to convince this woman, whose name escaped her, but she was going to try. She thought, and then quickly wiped it away, that this woman made Quinn look positively calm.

 _Focus on right now_ , she reminded herself.

Being the bearer of good news might be just what she’d need to convince these holdouts to join the Alliance and to help her figure out what it was SCORPIO sought here. The droid factory hadn’t been destroyed, so it was best to assume she wanted something being harbored inside.

“No, he was smuggled out and his injuries treated. He’s overseeing a refugee camp, people who need to be kept safe from Zakuul.”

The woman looked flustered. “Well, then, I’m sure you didn’t fly all the way here in Zakuulan shuttles just to tell me that, so state your purpose.”

“I’m Commander Nah-garesh Quinn, and I represent an alliance of former Imperial and Republic forces fighting the Eternal Throne. We’d like to speak to the commander of this facility, unless that’s you, in which case we’d like …”

“No, it’s not me. Let’s get back inside. We never know when those blasted Skytroopers are going to attack again.”

Felix looked relieved. Xhareen smiled. Yes, he would have a hard time dealing with such a high-strung person as this Dorne. Elana? Ilora? The name would come to her.

When they’d descended down the ladder about 10 meters in the near dark, they hit solid ground. Felix was the first to speak.

“You know, Elara, you’ve been a bit snippy with our guests. Though it’s probably my fault for not getting the introductions in sooner.”

“Felix is right. I shouldn’t have opened with such personal information, Capt. Dorne. It’s just good to see that you’re still alive. The only good thing to come of this bloody occupation is that more than a few broken families have been reunited.” Not her own, but Xhareen took genuine pleasure in putting others back together.

“It’s all right, Commander. I hope to make it up to you shortly.”

They’d gone several hundred meters into the base of the mountain when they met a durasteel door. Elara punched in a code, and the door opened into an immense room broken down into different areas.

“Our commander,” she said with a strange emphasis Xhareen couldn’t decipher, “is in the far corner. Felix, I will entrust our guests to you. I’m going back to the monitoring station unless I’m needed.”

“Sure thing, Elara.”

When they’d moved out of earshot, Felix leaned in and whispered “She’s not as bad as all that and I guarantee, she’s glad to hear her father is still alive. She lost her brother a few months back when Arcann bombed the arms factory for the umpteenth time.”

“I can’t exactly say her father is in good health, so I hope we can reunite them soon. He was too frail from his injuries to join the Alliance, so we stashed him on one of the planets where we’ve been trying to keep families and non-combatants safe.”

“We’re pretty familiar with what you’ve been up to, actually, although it wasn’t clear that the Outlander was really the one heading the Alliance. We wanted to contact the Alliance sooner, believe me on that point, but we were just recovering from the damage done by the Star Fortress it seems and then we woke up yesterday to an entire new garrison on our back porch. Thanks for taking care of that, by the way.”

“It’s my pleasure, Felix, believe me. What all are you up to down here?”

“We’re trying to repair some of the tech from the factory above and from the old arms factory, too. There’s training of the natives and re-training of the Resistance who stuck around, everything from weapons to disabling mines. We had been talking about growing crops somewhere soon since we’ve been living on stored ration bars the Imps left behind and catching fish of dubious chemical content.”

“How are you, Felix? I sensed your presence. You still have the holocron in your head, don’t you?”

“Yep, though I guess I don’t register as Sith and the Knights don’t seem to care anyway, but that’s why I didn’t go with Dhavana when she disappeared. Or pretended to, I guess. We’re here, lemme buzz in.”

He plugged a code into a door on a walled off corner of the vast room. A light went on. “The Alliance Commander herself is here, along with some friends.” He was smiling oddly.

The door buzzed open.

“Commander,” Felix said to a man bent over the desk before them, “meet the Commander.”

Even before he looked up, Xhareen would have known that nerflick anywhere. She stifled a scream with her hands. Gislaran immediately came to her side. “Are you OK?” she asked but Xhareen had already bounded over the desk and into Malavai Quinn’s waiting arms.

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Fate is Not My Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xhareen and Quinn share a few private moments after so long being apart.

Malavai Quinn was prepared for his Sith wife to come bounding into his arms. What he was not prepared for was how little she had changed in five years.

“Xhareen,” he said while kissing her hair as she sobbed into his shoulder, “I never gave up hope. I knew you were alive. I knew it, I knew it.”

She pulled back, still shaking. “Malavai, it’s so good to hear your voice.” She meant it. It wasn’t just a greeting.

He looked her over. She was, perhaps, a bit more toned, but nothing else about her had changed. “So, you were in Arcann’s prison all these years? You look little different than when you left.”

“It’s a long story and I will tell you everything, but the short version is Arcann froze me in carbonite. I was nearly dead after five years when Lana came and set me free.”

He pulled her back into his arms. He sniffled a few times before pleading “Can we have the room, please?” to the others who had piled into the command center that served as his office. Gislaran herded everyone out and said “I’ll be back for you in a few minutes, Commander.”

Xhareen nodded into Quinn’s chest. Gislaran shut the door. Xhareen gained control over her sobbing and took a steadying breath. “I had no idea you were here, Malavai. I’ve scanned a million faces on a dozen worlds, looking for yours.”

“As did I. Word at the Citadel was that you were the Outlander, that you had killed the Emperor Valkorion for no reason. There were people who argued that you had brought this suffering into the galaxy, completely forgetting the Eternal Throne attacked us first and without any provocation.”

“You wouldn’t believe the amount of denial the Zakuulans live under. But most of that is true. Valkorion took Darth Marr and I into custody. We could both sense that he was somehow also Vitiate. He killed Darth Marr and Arcann freed me, gave me a lightsaber and then distracted him. So I ran him through, and Arcann froze me in carbonite.”

She was starting to shake again, so Quinn pulled her against him again.

“We don’t get a lot of broadcasts here. We must stay off the sensor grids as much as possible, even with no Star Fortress. So I never had proof that you were really the Alliance commander. But I knew in my heart it was you.”

Xhareen stayed still in his arms. He knew she was listening to his voice, he just hoped she was hearing what he said. He was so happy to be talking to her again, he could have talked all day.

“We heard from the Resistance stronghold that Arcann was dethroned by the Outlander and her alliance. I was concerned if I contacted you, our base here would be compromised and the people here … they’ve suffered so much. And I’m not proud to admit that some of that was due to my presence here all those years ago.

“So I thought if I couldn’t make up my failings to you, I would at least try to do something good here.”

She pushed away from him and stood, both hands on her hips. “Quinn, you know I was done judging you about the past years ago.”

Five years of not knowing could eat away at any man’s resolve, he thought. He still tormented himself with guilt that he wasn’t on Darth Marr’s ship with her. But he had to be strong for her now.

“I know, my love. But it’s been a difficult time for me.”

“Clearly you didn’t give in to your demons. And now you’re a renegade commander, too. This place is astounding. There’s so much more to it than I ever saw when I was here. I’m proud of you, darling. So proud. But why did you come here of all places?”

“When I worried that my protestations against your death were putting my family into danger, I resigned my commission and took as many credits as I dared and flew all over the galaxy looking for you. But about a year ago, I was broke, tired and hopeless and felt that the Universe wasn’t going to give you back to me.

“I came here as a refugee, like so many others. Zakuul had bled the planet dry, or so they thought, and it was getting a reputation as a safe haven, as long as people obeyed. Which they did not, but we learned to move everything suspicious underground. I figured if I stayed put, you’d find me.”

“Your family, they’re safe?”

“Yes, last I checked in with them. Though Uncle Drayden died of the wounds he received fighting the first assault on the capital.”

“Oh, darling, I’m so sorry.” She started to sob, but Quinn shook his head.

“Don’t be. He got his final wish, to die a hero of the Empire.”

 Quinn handed her a cloth and she blew her nose, inelegantly as always. “There’s not much of our old Empire left.”

“Indeed.” He’d considered going back and waiting quietly for Xhareen to return, but the thought of all that had been lost – the old Dark Council, the independence of the military, the freedom to move around without being under watch constantly – it was as painful as having lost Xhareen.

“You never went back?” she asked.

“No, for all the reasons I’m sure you are imagining, but also because I knew if I stopped wandering around trying to find you, and just stayed put somewhere and made a big noise, you would find me.”

That big noise had been several recent, successful defenses of this compound. It was more out of necessity than strategy, since Quinn fretted that the tech they were building here would be discovered and make them a target. Everyone spent most of the time below the surface. Only experienced soldiers and operatives were permitted to make scavenging or trade runs.

Quinn had instituted these rules and more after assuming command here three months ago; in the nine months previous, when he’d just been another former refugee, the base had lost two commanders. He’d won the trust of the former Capt. Dorne and the former Lt. Iresso, but then he had known Felix from the brief time they served together on Yavin IV, fighting yet another grave threat to the galaxy.

“The Alliance sent operatives here months ago. I wish I had come with them.”

“I assume to find remains of the Star Fortress. I arrived here two weeks after it came down. We never did learn why.”

Xhareen laughed. “We only just learned ourselves. It’s a funny story. I’ll tell you later.”

Quinn cleared his throat and took a step back. “I saw it was you the moment you exited your shuttle. I came down here to get something for you.”

“I wondered about that. There was a battle raging on the surface and I’ve never known you to run from a fight.”

“Dorne and I were on the second line, per our rules. Only one command staff on the surface at any time. And Felix is a capable leader …”

“Wait, Malavai. You never told Felix about Dhavana staying in our stronghold on Tatooine?”

He shook his head. “She was the first person I visited when I left Dromund Kaas. She begged me not to. She said she’d had a vision that she had to let him go. It reminded me so much of your vision, why you left me behind on Dromund Kaas …”

They fell silent. She had pained him so much, ordering him to stay behind. He could see now that her vision had been true, but when he got news that Darth Marr’s ship had exploded, he nearly fell apart. But he never believed her dead, and he refused to lose hope.

“Balls,” she spat out, bringing him back to the present. “I blurted it out like it was known, and now I wonder if he thinks she abandoned him.”

“Don’t worry, my love, we can sort it out with him. I have a funny feeling he’s over her, in a good way.”

He pulled her back into his arms, but she stopped him. A wave of pain crossed her face. “You do want to leave with me, right?” she asked.

The way her lips trembled … he had not seen her so distraught since Ziost, since the burden of millions of lost souls passed through her like a blast wave through an empty tower.

“Oh darling, I want nothing more! I would make this planet spin backward if I had to.”

She smiled even as she sniffled back a sob. “No need to be so dramatic, Quinn. Just get on my shuttle.”

She let him pull her in close this time and they held onto each other for several quiet moments.

Then he grabbed a box on the desk and handed it to her. “I ran back here *after* your ships pacified the Skytroopers to get this for you.”

She opened it and lifted out two gleaming metal promise bracelets. Each was studded with a riotous array of polished stones. Her cheeks and brow rose up with the broad smile that now crossed her face. He would never get over how good it made him feel to watch her brows arch over her ocular implants whenever she smiled.

“I recognize this one – a moon gem from Covenant.”

Quinn had of course visited her homeworld looking for her, and more planets than he cared to count in three years of wandering. He’d made sure to pick up a stone of some sort from each world.

“I confess, I stole a replicator panel from your ship before the Empire confiscated it. That’s what the bases are made of.” She'd named the ship after her homeworld. It was where their love blossomed and grew, where they first made love, where she had banished him from when he betrayed her. Where he returned to when the Revanites threatened the galaxy. He wondered where it was now, if it was still intact, or if pieces of that part of their life had scattered across the galaxy like the people Zakuul had conquered.

He had originally intended to have only a Kaasian agate placed on each, as he waited in their estate home for her to return. But reality had turned out otherwise, and somewhere along the way he decided these bracelets would document his journey to find her.

“Malavai, I thought when we married we agreed we didn’t need jewels or trinkets to prove it. And if this is a promise bracelet, you should have given it to me when you proposed – which you never actually did, you just filled out the forms and then it was Darth Marr who suggested we …”

He slipped the bracelet over her hand and onto her wrist. “These represent the promise I made to you to stay behind when you left. The promise to keep my eyes on the stars and wait for your return.

“Do you remember what you said? Because I remember every word. You said we would be together, even if we had to start all over again. And that’s when it came to me, that I should return here, to where we met and everything changed. So I did. And you were true to your word.”

Just then the office door opened, and Felix and Gislaran walked in. Dorne was right behind them. Their continued reunion would have to wait.

They pulled apart. Quinn straightened his jacket and Xhareen blew her nose, rather inelegantly as she always did. He laughed, and so did she.

“Commander,” Felix began. “We have company in orbit.”

Dorne stepped up. She gave Xhareen another stern look, but then her face softened. “Yes, sir,” she told Quinn. “The sensors say they’re Republic, but their ID codes are something I’ve never seen before. And, the capital has taken notice.”

“They’re Alliance ships. We were intending to land closer to the rebel base, but when we picked up the fighting here, we stopped by,” Xhareen said.

Quinn would be eternally grateful for that doomed platoon of Skytroopers for delivering his love back into his arms.

But there would be time to muse on Fate later. Duty called. And, he hoped, yet another new life would begin.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Covenant is a non-canon world I made up for Xhareen's home planet in Imperial space. It's a colony world comprised mostly of aliens, first settled more than 500 years ago by Xhareen's Miralukan ancestors; Mirialans make up the second biggest group. For many years, it existed quietly, with the understanding that it would have little to do with Dromund Kaas -- except to provide raw material and send its best and brightest talents (scientists, musicians and Force sensitives mostly) as the Empire demanded. Xhareen names her Fury-class Interceptor ship The Covenant.


	3. Delicate Negotiations

It took as much diplomacy as they had to give, but Quinn, Xhareen and a contingent from the droid factory base and Xhareen’s Alliance managed to come to a workable arrangement with the Balmorran Rebel faction. One that mostly involved leaving each other alone, just in treaty form.

Their leader was clearly competent, but almost devoid of emotion. He and Quinn were able to communicate best, so Xhareen left most of the talking to him. It made sense: She was here with six battlecruisers and numerous shuttles, fresh from deposing an emperor and gearing up to unseat an empress. She was Sith, even though she had left her lightsabers in the care of Gislaran, her second. A very long time ago, she had come here and assisted the Imperial military in its domination of the planet. She would be viewed as a threat no matter how smoothly she modulated her voice or how reasonable her terms.

But Quinn had a history here -- good and bad -- but a stake she could not claim. And he had quickly figured out a path to rapport with the Rebel frontman.

They’d been instructed to refer to him as “Leader,” and nothing else. He was a tawny-skinned Twi’lek, a native, and wholly devoted to his people’s independence. She marveled that he had never met Gislaran, the former Jedi Battlemaster whose devotion to her people’s quest for freedom from slavery had brought her disfavor with the Jedi Council, or her very own friend Vette, who still worked tirelessly to return her people’s treasures to their homeworld, Ryloth. Perhaps the future would bring them what they all desired.

She and Quinn had gone over the issues on the flight here, focusing mostly on preserving the status quo, just with Alliance assistance. The Leader, the most dour Twi’lek Xhareen had ever met, listened dispassionately to their initial proffer. In each case, both sides seemed to agree easily on the big issues, but got bogged down on details.

For most of a day and into the next, the air had been tense. Clearly, the Rebels were worried about their autonomy and the growing strength of the Alliance. And there was still the old resentment toward both the Empire and the Republic for their attempts to subjugate and control the planet and its resources.

They were moving forward, however, just with more caution than Xhareen thought best.

Until late on the second day, when Felix came into the conference room from his position outside, where he and Gislaran were standing guard. Then, the leader’s face broke into an impossible smile.

“Iresso?” he called out in the middle of arguing for a minor word change in the salvaging agreement.

“Zenith? How in the nine hells are you, man?” Xhareen had remembered Felix was never stingy with his smiles. But this was warm, fraternal even.

“My brother, we will discuss things later. I did not know you were with the Alliance.”

“Actually, I’ve been at the droid factory for two years already. Just kept my head down.”

“Huh,” Zenith said, and sat back down. “Later, then.”

Felix had come in to advise Xhareen about a transmission from Odessen being relayed by one of the battleships in orbit. She excused herself, knowing Quinn would be even better equipped to handle the negotiations now that Felix had smashed down a wall around the leader named Zenith.

Xhareen had never realized Zenith had served with her friends in the same crew for months before returning to become opposition leader after Balmorra shrugged off its Imperial bonds. Just as Sana Rae had promised, this trip was marked all over with the footprints of Fate.

~~~~~  

The message was from Theron, who reported an unusual Eternal Fleet presence around Ord Mantel, reports of some bombings, and then a quick retreat.

“I guess that’s where we go next. It was probably already on the schedule. Pierce would know.”

“I have your itinerary right here, Commander. You were heading to Alderaan first.”

“We’re flexible enough to make a detour, Theron.”

He sighed. “I would try to convince you to wait, but I know better and Lana’s standing here behind me and I don’t even have to look to know she wants you to check out what the Fleet’s up to.”

“You’re getting the hang of things, aren’t you, Theron?” Lana said. Xhareen couldn’t see her, but she could tell Lana was smiling.

“Then it’s settled. Ord Mantel and then Alderaan, but we’ll have to return to Odessen after that. We have more than 200 new refugees and I don’t want to expose them to any more trouble than we have to.”

“Umph,” Theron replied. “Things are getting a little cozy here with all our new playmates, Commander.”

“I’m certain most of them will be posted off to the refugee planets. But we’ll have a few high-level military assets that we’ll want to keep close.”

“Intriguing,” she heard Lana, still off camera, say.

“Tell me, Commander,” Theron said, “did Sana Rae’s prediction of finding your fate come true?”

Xhareen smiled before she could stop herself. She wanted to keep Quinn a secret – mostly because she wanted to give Vette the surprise of her life. But she also worried that Lana wouldn’t take it so well and she didn’t want to give her any chance to … well, Xhareen hoped she wouldn’t try to undermine him, or their relationship. Surely, Lana would come around and see Quinn as a true asset to the Alliance.

“Maybe, Theron. I’ll let you know when we get back. What do you say, about two weeks?”

“Sounds about right. We’ll be in touch.”

“Be well, my lord,” she heard Lana say as the transmission cut off.  

_Oh, my dear friend, I am as well as I could ever hope_ , she thought, then headed back.

~~~~~~

She returned to the conference room just in time to sign the document. “Commander,” Quinn said as he handed her the datapad. She made sure to brush his hand with hers as she took it.

“Leader, we are honored to be allies,” she said, handing the pad to him. By prior agreement, he would sign last.

“Please,” he said when he was finished signing. “Call me Zenith.”

“And you can call me Xhareen.”

He took her hand and this time, rather than a perfunctory shake, he held it for a second and almost smiled.

Per the treaty: The droid factory would remain autonomous but under the protection of the Alliance. All previous arrangements for salvage and trade between the Rebellion and the factory would stay in place. The Alliance would take nothing except any persons who wished to leave to join the fight against Zakuul. And a permanent non-aggression pact would remain between the Rebels and the Alliance.

Refugees who still identified as either Republic or Imperial could choose to remain in the capital or to go to any of the satellite colonies or the droid factory. Details about resources from the Alliance would be forthcoming, but Xhareen promised the people of Balmorra would not go hungry and they would get the first shipment of soil reclamation droids as soon as possible.

This was the world that had given her the love of her life. Twice now. She would make sure it suffered no more.

She stepped outside the conference hall just as the sun was setting. The warm gold rays bounced off the flowers that lined the pathway into the building. A few young trees grew elsewhere in the courtyard, and songbirds were singing.

Xhareen had never experienced light anywhere as beautiful as this planet, where the blooms all conspired to reflect it back in defiance to all the ugliness war had wrought on their soil. But it seemed especially lovely today.

The planet was sending her its thanks.

~~~~~

She’d been on Balmorra for more than two days and all she and Quinn had been able to do was get in a passionate kiss now and then. Each time, it got more difficult to separate their bodies and get back to business. Zenith had put her contingent up the night before in a large bunk room; she and Quinn insisted on sharing the same bed and with only a few gymnastic moves, they managed to fit in a comfortable spoon arrangement and fall quickly to sleep. But it was far too crowded in the room for intimacy of any sort.

Now that things were settled, they were finally returning to the droid factory and leave as soon as possible after that. Xhareen had been forced to leave open the question about the extent to which the Alliance would support the Rebels’ desire for independence from Republic or Imperial rule. She gave Zenith her word in principle that they would, but left it unstated whether that might mean military support.

But now, a set of more delicate negotiations must begin. Quinn had agreed without reservation to come back with her to Odessen. The question of his successor loomed, however.

While they were gone, Pierce had agreed to wait inside the base with a small contingent of troops from the battlecruisers, the prospect made better for him by Quinn’s absence. Xhareen had a moment of exasperation, that he would still hold a grudge after all these years, but she wasn’t going to let it ruin her mood or even let it show at all. They were packed on the transport for the Rebel HQ, Quinn safely out of sight, when Pierce exited the shuttle. And was nowhere in sight when they returned.

Once they were back in the bowels of the complex, Quinn called Felix and Elara into his office. Xhareen was there as well, but she kept silent.

Things got complicated quickly, though, when first Felix and then Elara declared they wanted to join the Alliance.

“I’ve been hiding too long,” Felix said. “My old crewmate Zenith reminded me of that. Even without the Barsen’thor, I belong in this fight.”

Xhareen noticed Elara flinch when Felix mentioned the word “Barsen’thor.” But all she said was “I, too, need to get back into the fight, commanders.”

Quinn studied the small terminal interface in front of him. “I suppose Keeling or Tarmish or …”

Xhareen excused herself from the room. Quinn looked pained, but he quickly returned to reciting names and discussing qualifications.

Xhareen figured Felix would come to Odessen with her; she hadn’t even bothered to ask him prior to this conversation. And Dorne’s pained look when he mentioned Dhavana, the Barsen’thor, confirmed her suspicion that wherever Felix went, she would want to follow.

She wanted to console her, tell her she knew all about the long, rocky path of romance with a shy, reluctant partner who felt his loyalty lay elsewhere. But Dorne had kept her distance from the Sith, even though she accepted a former Imperial officer as her commander.

Still, Xhareen was excited at the prospect of reuniting Elara with her father, no need to worry about Republic or Empire or talk of defections anymore. She would do whatever it took to make sure Elara came with her.

It only took about two seconds for her to realize she had a perfect candidate in mind. But first, she needed to make a call to the Odessen base. She found Gislaran and explained her plan, eliciting a hug from her Jedi friend.

~~~~~

Xhareen thought it would be a hard sell, but Pierce was clearly overwhelmed by the offer.

“You don’t have to say yes, Pierce. This is completely optional, and Gislaran is willing to stay if you refuse.”

He shook his head. “I’m sure you think I want this just to show up Quinn, but I’d like to keep my boots on solid ground for a while, my lord.”

She frowned. “I meant Commander,” he corrected himself.

“You’ll be a commander, too, now. That was Quinn’s title.”

“Oh joy,” he snarked, but she knew he was joking.

“One last thing, Pierce. I called Odessen. They’re sending a shuttle with supplies. And Aneesah.”

And for the first time ever, she saw him tear up.

“She wants to be with you, and I’d feel better with at least one Sith on site. And I’d feel even better than that to see you two finally make some sort of commitment. We have no idea how long this war will last. We have no idea whether we’ll be alive tomorrow. So you really need to get busy with living.”

“Can’t argue with that,” he said.

“I wasn’t going to let you,” she responded. “But you’re going to have to face Malavai sooner or later, so let’s get this over with.”

~~~~~

The handover of command went more smoothly than Xhareen could have hoped. In the end, it was agreed that Pierce would assume security and military command, and Tarmish, a Mirialan, and his Twi’lek husband, Dar’than, would oversee the manufacturing and civilian affairs.

Xhareen still marveled at how easily the former Imperials around her had grown accustomed to sharing power and all these new arrangements she was now a part of brought her great hope for the galaxy after Vaylin and Zakuul were brought in line. However long it would take, there was light at the end of the wormhole.

She arranged for Felix and Elara to ride with Gislaran on her shuttle so that she and Quinn could finally enjoy some privacy in a cabin on one of the battlecruisers. It was time. They had both earned it.

The shock and novelty of reuniting had worn off and more fundamental urges were starting to announce themselves. As she helped him pack his things, Xhareen had brushed her backside against Quinn’s leg and he let out a gasp; he reached up to touch her face to kiss her, and stroked her breast on the way up.

They were nearly feral by the time they arrived on the ship. It felt like it took hours to make all the introductions and settle their gear in the cabin.

But finally, they were horizontal and naked and a married couple once more.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aneesah is one of my Sith Warrior alts.
> 
> Also, I am using the terms Rebels/Rebellion for the Resistance, figuring from an Imperial point of view, they'd be considered rebellious. Resistance confers a status on the merits of their opposition the Empire would not want to give. Even though she's no longer technically an Imperial, Xhareen still calls them what she did before.


	4. Committed to Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback. A journey. A memory of things to come.

Vasil Dorne searched for her face for years. He couldn’t believe his girl, his Elara, had left. He couldn’t even say the word. _Defected_.

It had cost him, dearly. Vasil Dorne could have done what others did when their children snuck off, said she’d died. Hint the Sith were involved. No one would have checked, no one would have complained. His smart little girl. But he told the truth, and he paid.

When his son Aleksei left, too, the damage had already been done. He’d been put at a table in Intelligence HQ and forced to fill out forms. He was harmless now, so hemorrhaging family members to the other side no longer mattered.

But he was not one for forms, or tracking data or measuring compliance. That had been his daughter’s specialty. Something she could do while cleaning and reassembling a blaster. Something she could do while discussing the merits of a BlasTech DL-44 vs a Merr-Sonn Flash 4.

She was the smartest person he had ever known and once upon a time, he had known many smart people. He wondered if the Republic cared how good she was. How smart and brave and strong. He wondered if the Republic valued how crafty and street smart his son had been. His son. He could have been a general if he stayed. Or Minister of Intelligence.

Both of his children could have easily enrolled in the Imperial Military Academy. But first Aleksei and then Elara declared they were enlisting. They would make their way on their own. The Empire rewarded those who were smart and loyal and neither of his dear ones needed to have a commission handed to them. Others whispered about it, but Vasil was proud of his hard-headed, independent offspring. Even after they left, though that he could never say out loud.

Vasil didn’t care about his own career after that. Commander suited him. They hadn’t cut his pay. He tried to maintain some illusion of normalcy, though it was doomed not to last. His wife suffered the most, so much that her heart gave out six months after his son left.

Then the war started up again. Some called it a new war, but he knew better. It was the same war, the same war there would always be. Republic vs. Empire, Jedi vs. Sith. Neither side could simply leave the other alone.

But someone remembered him, the forgotten commander, and called him back into service. He was given even more resources for training agents for the new Sith Intelligence. The name didn’t matter so much, that was good.

Someone else filled out his forms now.

+++++

Then the galaxy turned itself upside down. Darth Marr, the only hope the Sith had of restoring sanity and order, gone. The Outlander, The Emperor’s Wrath, gone. An unknown enemy, their new reality.

When the bombings started, no one blinked when he demanded to be put in charge of a forward bunker outside Kaas City. Whoever these invaders were, this False Empire, he would not let them take his home. They could have his tired old body, but not his home.

+++++

He woke up, two weeks later, in a crude hospital in the Mandalorian Enclave. Most of the mercenaries had either joined the fighting elsewhere or moved on. They didn’t need to be beholden to the Sith anymore, so why should they stay?

Except one stayed longer than the rest. Flame haired, beautiful. By the time he recovered enough to walk around, she’d been named Mandalore.

“We’re getting you out of here,” she told him. “You’re too injured to keep fighting, but you still have a job if you want one.”

He flew out of Kaas City the next day.

+++++

He already was not a young man, but the next five years made him feel ancient. Still, he persisted. On any given day, he might see as many Republic faces as he did Imperial ones and it didn’t take that many armed Mandalorians to keep the peace among them. No one was more surprised than Vasil Dorne that this refugee colony on Vanjervalis 4 was working. They even managed to get a crude stim factory up and running.

Displaced people, especially during a war, needed to keep busy. So they made combat stims and medpacs of appreciable quality. The Zakuulans thought nothing of the place; on the surface, it appeared to be doing nothing but sending weak medicines, practically placebos, to sick civilians on various Core worlds.

Vasil had never even been this far into Republic space and here he was, thumbing his nose at his oppressors and the Republic at the same time. Of course, they knew he was an Imperial, but he had a new identity, thanks to the flame-haired Mandalore. The Pubs couldn’t shut the place down; they needed its output too much. What the Senators and their lackeys and the dregs of the Republic military and the SIS didn’t know was that this enclave, this Mandalorian stronghold, was helping to build a resistance to Zakuul, one that was not beholden to either Republic or Sith Empire.

He kept searching for her face. Every new ship, he quizzed the crews. Did they know her, had they seen her? A wounded soldier from Taris thought she looked familiar, based on a crude holo that was all Vasil had left of his former life. The soldier died before he could say any more.

A blonde Sith with haunting gold eyes came to visit, to quiz him about the resistance. She promised to keep an eye out for his daughter. Months passed, then years. Nothing much happened, nothing much changed.

+++++

When the bombardment began, Vasil Dorne was deep within the manufacturing compound, half a kilometer below the surface. It was clear there was no fighting it, so he ran around ordering calm and got everyone he could to the lowest levels. They shut themselves in behind a large vault door. They would just have to ride out this storm.

Six hours later, the all clear was called. He sent scouts to investigate. There was no longer an elevator or even a staircase to the surface. It took the party two hours to make their way through the debris but when they did, there was nothing left to see.

There were plenty of supplies, Vasil had seen to that, and so the survivors waited.

Two weeks later, the flame-haired Mandalore returned with at least a hundred of her kind in tow. They got a crude tunnel system built within four days. She was the first one through the vault door.

“We’re shipping you out,” she told him.

All he could do was nod. “Keep these people safe, Mandalore. Keep my people safe.”

+++++

Vasil left with the final group, clutching the last remaining supplies in their arms. He could see the entrance to the surface when the galaxy came tumbling down around his head.

He woke up this time on a ship, in a haze from the stims he had probably been carrying. The flame-haired Mandalore was the first face he saw.

“You’re pretty hard to kill, old man,” she said.

“What … happened?”

“Cave in. Kriffin’ Zakuul did more of a number on your planet than we thought. Engineers couldn’t secure everything. But you’ll be fine. Broken leg is all. Two others had concussions, couple more broken limbs, that sort of thing. All of your people made it out alive.”

Thank the Maker for that. “What’s next, Mandalore.”

“Please, call me Shae. Shae Vizla. You’ve earned it. And we’re packing you all up and shipping you to Rendili. You should be able to get back to work on those stims in no time.”

+++++

Vasil learned on the flight that five worlds had been bombed to dust by the tyrant Arcann and his sister, the High Justice Vaylin. Looking for a rebel base, it was said. Looking for the Outlander.

The Mandalorians took them to Rendili, one of the founding worlds of the Republic. The irony was not lost on him even after all he’d been through. There, he met a young woman, Theanna. She had clearly been Republic military, though she said nothing of her past. She, too, was looking for lost loved ones but by now, wasn’t everyone? He knew not to press any further.

He needed help getting around until his leg healed. There were no hover chairs, but someone rigged some valve wheels onto a frame and welded the contraption to a durasteel chair and with help, he could get around. Mandalore, Shae, he reminded himself, assigned Theanna to be his aide.

He’d lost everything on Vanjervalis. He didn’t even have his holo of Elara anymore. But Theanna liked to draw. She took stones and ground them into dust and made paint out of them, “Ink,” she called it. Then she took a trimmed down flutterplume feather and drew up the ink and drew on pieces of bark peeled from the birchant trees.

He didn’t mind that these drawings took all her attention when she wasn’t wheeling him around their new base of operations. He enjoyed watching her work. It was the only time he ever saw her smile. After she’d created the 10th version of the same Cathar male in Republic armor, he had an idea. It was worth a shot. He would ask.

“If I describe someone to you, can you draw them?” he asked, sounding more like a penitent 8-year-old begging forgiveness than a seasoned military commander and intelligence expert.

“Can’t hurt to try, sir,” she said.

It took a while, but he talked her through the features of his daughter’s face. She looked so much like her mother, he recalled. But her own girl. Her own woman now.

When she was about 2/3 finished, Theanna stopped and stood up, the drawing in her hands, her arms stretched out.

“I know her,” she whispered.

Somewhere, deep in his fragile bones, he had hoped she might.

+++++


	5. The  Minister's Wife, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter encompasses the free-standing story "A Dark Secret Revealed," a fluffy bit of Quinn-ness that I wrote before I ever thought I'd be re-writing the "Knights of" expansions.

**en route from Balmorra to Ord Mantell**

**_After Round 1_**

After they’d exhausted themselves, Xhareen suggested they get some food in the ship’s galley. So they began to get dressed, if a bit reluctantly.

Everything still felt so unreal. Xhareen studied Malavai as he sat on the edge of her bed in only his undershorts. He was thinner, but still muscled and taut. He’d reluctantly told her he spent several months in prison before escaping Dromund Kaas to find her. His face had a few lines she’d never seen before, whether they started in a jail cell or on the run, he hadn’t yet divulged. And as she had noticed earlier, not only were his temples heavily silvered, but silver strands had sprouted throughout his still-thick black hair.

But he was still her Quinn. Her beautiful, maddening Quinn.

Before he could reach for his socks, she walked over and sat on his lap. He put his arms around her and smiled as she ran her fingers through his hair and kissed him on the forehead.

“There are many things I will never forgive Arkann or Valkorion for, but missing your first gray hairs? I would destroy multiple empires for that grave sin.”

Quinn cleared his throat. “Well, darling, I suppose it’s time I came clean on something then. I never meant to keep this from you for so long.”

She stood up, backed away and looked at him. “What in the galaxy are you talking about?” They’d had so little free time since reuniting to talk. Was there really some dark secret he could only now reveal?

“I have been coloring over the gray in my hair for many years now.” He cleared his throat again.

Her sudden relief almost made her laugh. But Quinn looked so suddenly contrite, she wasn’t about to let him off that easy. “How long?” she asked, folding her arms.

“Before we met, even.”

How could she have missed that? There were times they spent months away from civilization. There weren’t any salons on Belsavis. She knew he’d programmed Toovee to cut his hair to the apportioned length. He had a skin regimen he insisted was military approved. She thought she knew every lotion and potion he possessed; after they became a couple, she essentially moved into his quarters, which were larger than hers (and always neater, too).

“Why did you keep that from me?” If she was honest, this was more than a laughing matter. He hadn’t told her about Baras’s threats that nearly killed them both. But they’d recovered from that years ago, and dredging it up again would be cruel. So she let him answer.

“It wasn’t intentional. I just had my routine and I kept to it. Whenever we visited Dromund Kaas or some civilized planet, I’d have it done professionally. When we were away, well, there are still those kinds of amenities readily available. I kept a supply in stock. That wasn’t really a detail you would have ever paid attention to. You always wanted your alone time, and you never denied me mine. So, that’s one of the things I did with it.”

She walked back over to him and reached for his head again. “You always were a vain son of a Hutt.” He gave a small yelp as she yanked one of the gray hairs from his head.

“You never seemed to mind. _Owww_.” He rubbed his scalp.

She put the hair in a small box on the stand next to the bed, then went back and straddled his lap. She ground her hips to get closer to him and whispered into his ear, “There’s only one way you can make this up to me, Malavai Quinn. Food will just have to wait.”

He reached up and unhooked her bra. “Working on it, my lord.”

**_A few hours later_**

Xhareen lay on her stomach, pretending to still be asleep. She was reveling in Quinn’s touch, his hands running along her bare skin as he hummed a tune she didn’t recognize. All the galaxy might know this song, she thought, but not me.

“I know you’re awake,” Quinn said.

“No, I’m pretty sure I’m still asleep. So please don’t stop.”

He moved his hand toward her backside and gave her a gentle slap.

“Nope. Still not awake,” she teased.

He jiggled her left rump cheek. Quinn had always been a tactile lover, but he’d barely stopped touching her since their reunion on Balmorra, as though he needed to keep convincing himself she was real.

“You should get up,” he said. “I’m sure you have some briefing to get to soon enough, and there’s something I need to tell you.”

That got her attention. What little they had discussed these past three days was about Xhareen’s strange five years and the busy months she’d spent as Alliance Commander. Quinn mentioned his confinement, that his family was safe, and that he had spent a lot of his and Xhareen’s wealth trying to find her. Not much else.

Of course, after Vandin, Xhareen cared little for acquiring any more personal wealth. Plus, she knew he hadn’t tapped into her Hutt accounts.

She sat up and put her hand on his. “Darling, six years is a long time. If you needed to find solace in someone else, it’s perfectly understandable.”

“No, no,” he said, leaning in to hug her tightly. “I knew you were still alive. I betrayed you once. I was not about to betray you again.” She heard him sniffle a few times, then he pulled back.

“I was on Vulta. There was a cell of anarchists who got their funding from various criminal enterprises run through the ports there. I was always looking for you among dissidents and malcontents, so it seemed like a worthy effort. I showed your picture around and got a hit. Some porter said he’d seen you, on Dantooine.”

 _Dantooine_ , she thought. Many refugees, including some from Zakuul itself, had settled on that far-off, agricultural world. The Alliance specifically avoided any activity there to avoid drawing any unwarranted attention from the Eternal Throne. A Star Fortress still orbited it, as far as she knew.

“So I went there,” he continued. “I was down to my last few thousand credits. I landed in New Garang, the capital, and spent several weeks just walking around, showing your picture, but nothing came of it. My funds were almost gone and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten. So I found a quick contract job managing the books for a rather shady operator, a Devaronian, and made enough to move on.

“I heard about a band of rebels on the southern continent, so I went there as soon as I could. It wasn’t as seedy as the capital, but I’d learned from my employer that more than a few smugglers used their contacts with the agricultural export firms to move contraband.  

“They called the port area Dorant City. I was famished when I landed, so I went to the nearest cantina. I showed your picture to the bartender, and he pointed to a small stage in the corner. Within a minute, there you were.

“You got up to sing and it was transcendent. Only after you finished did I realize you were too tall. And darling, you know I love you with all my heart, but this singer was much better than you.”

“Oh my stars,” Xhareen whispered. “My sister.”

Quinn nodded. “There’s more …”

“My parents?”

“Yes.”

“You met them?”

“Yes. They were quite kind, although …”

She put up her hand. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to just drop in on them. The Alliance has avoided any activity on Dantooine because so many refugees have settled there. I’m sure Theron has contacts but we don’t even communicate directly with the planet.”

He put his hand on her head, smoothing her hair. “Perhaps someday soon, my love, you can be reunited.”

They moved in for a long, passionate kiss that was eventually interrupted by Xhareen’s comm.

“Told you,” Quinn said.

She smiled. It was time to move forward, as always.

~~~~~~

Xhareen took the holo in the ship’s communications center. It was Theron.

“Thought you might like the latest intel we’ve got from Ord Mantel.”

“Go ahead. Any word why Senya was there?”

“Since we suspected she was looking for some place with extraordinary medical facilities, it wasn’t hard to track down a private care center that’s a favorite among the rich and well-connected.”

“OK, I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

“It’s in the Avilatan sector, not far from the main Republic base, which as of yesterday is no more. Vaylin’s fleet bombed it pretty hard, although a few shuttles were able to escape.”

“And we think Senya’s was one of them?”

“Yes, a contact sent a holo of a few platoons of Knights guarding Arcann’s shuttle. It flew off with several  others before the serious bombing at Ft. Garnik started. Seems that Vaylin bombed the capital city on the other side of the planet first. Whether she had bad intel, or just did it for funsies, who can say.”

 _Who indeed_ , Xhareen thought. Vaylin’s motives were never clear. Her vendetta against Senya was particularly puzzling. Xhareen wasn’t happy with Senya’s defection, but she never thought the errant Knight was responsible for her daughter’s instability and rage. That could only be due to Valkorion.

“Are the Knights still on the surface, or did they leave?” she asked.

“Unclear. These were a faction of Knights still allied with Arcann, so I’d bet they hightailed it out of there with him and Senya.”

Which meant she had support, if only a small contingent.

“We still need to check the situation,” she said.

“Agreed. Just be careful, Commander.”

“We will be.”

~~~~~~

**On Ord Mantell**

Nomi Jenn checked the power monitors. They had fluctuated briefly, but tapping into the planet’s endless supply of volcanic energy meant the backup systems, and the backups to the backup systems, all stayed powered and did their job.

Senya Tirall had warned her this might happen, so Nomi ordered all available resources to the facility’s shields, embedded in the mountain above their heads. Unless she scored a direct hit, Empress Vaylin would have to bomb the entire region out of existence to damage the underground stronghold.

Not that that wasn’t a possibility. After examining the Knight’s son, the former emperor Arcann, Nomi wondered if his sister might be saved, too. Nomi had no doubt she could cure Arcann of his hateful and violent ways; it was, after all, just another form of conditioning. No different than the conditioning she’d seen in victims of the Empire, or the corporations, even a few terrorist organization. More intense, certainly, and more corrupted by Force energy. But not insurmountable. That left hope for Vaylin as well.

Arcann could have been saved, if only his mother had kept faith in the facility’s defenses. But she refused to stay, worried that her daughter might follow through and destroy the entire planet searching for them. Nomi arranged transport to Ft. Garnik on a medship after a futile attempt to change Senya’s mind.

She even tried to make her promise to return when it was safe.

“It will never be safe, as long as my daughter is empress,” Senya said.

Nomi worried that tormented mother needed treatment herself. She vowed to work on a plan for her, too. For now, though, she could only trust in the shields and wait for a sign that the bombing had stopped.

She turned to the young woman whose gifts, natural and otherwise, made her an obvious choice to be Nomi’s right hand.

Mako assured her all systems were nominal and the shields were holding at 98%.

~~~~~~

The instant the ship locked into orbit over Ord Mantell, Xhareen fell to her knees. Quinn was the first to her side. She waved him off, but he helped her stand up and didn’t let go.

“Jaesa,” she whispered. “She was here.”

“Then we’d better get to the surface as soon as possible,” he said.

 

 


	6. The Minister's Wife, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A troubled woman on a troubled planet works to bring hope back to the galaxy. And Quinn gets to try some cosplay.

Nomi Jenn never wanted to come to Ord Mantell. She missed Dromund Kaas, missed the rains, missed the precious days of sunshine and the green jungle that never let itself be tamed despite human interference and technology.

But as her husband ascended through the ranks of Imperial Intelligence – through sheer cunning and canny observation of his rivals and his friends – it became clear she could be a target. Revenge or blackmail, it didn’t much matter. Her status as a trusted civilian Intelligence contractor would not keep her, her husband, or their precious daughter safe.

She first decamped to Ziost, her home world. Her unusual cross-training in psychology and cybernetics made it easy to find another contracting position, this time at a military rehabilitation hospital. She missed her husband desperately, but reminded herself this separation was to keep them all safe and alive. He had always promised her he would quit the game someday before they got too old and they would be able to raise their daughter safely.

Their daughter, Shara, started to show signs of incredible intellectual ability when she was just three years old. Not surprising, as Nomi knew she’d been purposely selected to be introduced to the dashing young spy because it was felt they would produce superior offspring. Their attraction and marriage was, nevertheless, their own choice. A good choice.

Except Shara’s birth had nearly killed her mother, and she was the only child they had. At least, that Nomi knew of. She bore no illusions that Imperial scientists had harvested her eggs and other genetic samples. She tried not to think of that, ever.

By the time she was four, Shara’s intellectual superiority could no longer be hidden and her father came to take her – with many tears shed – to be trained on Dromund Kaas.

Nomi knew, even if she could not admit, that the training was something else, something unsavory. She knew because she had been the one to develop the technology used. It had started as the means for healing head trauma in soldiers, but in the hands of Intelligence scientists, it became something Nomi never intended. A way to accelerate the brain, boost its processing capabilities up near those of machines. At a cost it shamed her to concede.

She was allowed periodic and painfully short visits with her daughter, occasionally with her husband in the room. By the time Shara was a teenager, she showed little interest in any parental involvement, though she always told them she respected their participation in her life. That was it.

Not parents, participants.

Her husband pretended he was not bothered by his daughter’s distance, which always caused Nomi to rage and cry and want to divorce him. They spent two years barely speaking.

Then he became Keeper. And Shara became a Watcher, one of the best, able to process unfathomable amounts of information and yet still fully organic. She rarely showed them herself, but she was an astute reader of emotions. Able to calculate their influence on outcomes, too.

Nevertheless, it was determined her “humanity” was holding back the program, and later arrivals were far less endowed with emotional capacity. They were wonderful living computers, but few of them could interact with human agents and assets like Shara could.

Her status as a Watcher officially eliminated her old identity, so her relationship with Keeper, her father, was not well known. That kept her safe, but it infuriated Nomi that her husband, the one who had taken Shara from her, was the one who got to see her precious daughter every day.

Nomi played on her husband’s paranoia, and convinced him that she needed to leave Ziost, and quite probably, the Empire. He agreed, although she saw the brief spasm of pain across his still-handsome face. _Good_ , she thought. _He still loves me and it hurts him_.

Nar Shaddaa was too obvious a destination for someone of her talents, so Nomi settled first on Ylesia, one of the more civilized Hutt worlds. She kept up her work on trauma victims, especially the Hutts’ prized fighters, but began to work in secret on a plan she hoped might one day return her daughter to her.

She had studied all types of mental programming and conditioning, from outright torture to Jedi meditation techniques. She studied abuse victims. She learned how Sith used rage to heal themselves. She knew what data she had given to Intelligence that they used in the Watcher program.

She produced enough cybertrinkets to keep her Hutt employers happy and worked on her de-programming protocol on the side. Her first volunteer test subject was a former Sith slave, who had escaped when his master came to Ylesia for the fights. He lived in terror from the horrors he had been subjected to, even though he’d stolen enough from his master to buy a cover story of his own death. No one was looking for him, but he could barely sleep.

It took several weeks, but she was able to erase enough bad memories and help him re-learn a life without constant panic and hypervigilance. He disappeared back into the dark recesses of the galaxy and she never heard from him again. He wasn’t cured, though. He was still a work in progress, but Nomi let herself sleep at night knowing she had given him a fighting chance.

But there were others who found her, including a particularly nasty Hutt named Korlatta, who aspired to be an independent spymaster and came to Nomi with more credits than she could have ever imagined and a plan. It sounded simple enough: a device to switch neural programming on and off, and small enough to be implanted inside the skull. Other devices, rather crude in Nomi’s opinion, existed, but they were always obvious and often left the user less than whole once removed.

She couldn’t resist. She knew the device could be used for ill, but then her highest achievement to date had been developed with only the best intentions and look what her own people had turned it into!

Besides, she had a plan of her own. And it would require a lot of credits. The Hutt’s money would be almost enough. Only at that moment did she allow herself to think about her husband and daughter for the first time in many months.

It took years, but she finished the device to the Hutt’s satisfaction and took the profits. She contacted an old friend, a retired cybernetic engineer like herself, and discussed her idea. He liked it. He said he knew of a backwater planet where no one would bother them. He’d get the rest of the funds, if she didn’t ask him how.

And so she brought her clinic for cyber-psychological repair to a hole in a mountain on the forgotten side of Ord Mantell.

She had long established a reputation in certain circles for being able to break programming, whether from technological sources, long-term abuse, spice addiction, or any of a dozen causes. She only nominally vetted clients, though she did try to ensure the safety of her staff and the facility. She made it a policy to be discrete, and not check whether someone was a slave or a wealthy Senator.

It had been years since she’d spoken to her husband. She told herself she still loved him, but now he was Minister of Intelligence and she knew he was not the man she’d married. That he would have made too many compromises to stay in power, to stay alive. That he could easily be brainwashed himself to do the dirty work the Sith required of him. Still, she planned and fantasized about a way to kidnap her daughter and bring her to Ord Mantell.

Then he showed up one day, quite literally on the doorstep. A young woman in a hoverchair by his side. Even slumped over, she knew right away who it was. She met them at the door herself.

This would be her biggest test. Would all her years of holding herself out as an expert on deprogramming, and all her fancy and expensive tech, help her save her daughter? Only time would tell. She welcomed her estranged husband back and together, they set upon the goal of making Shara Jenn whole again.

~~~~~

**Back on the Republic ship, above Ord Mantell**

In the end, Quinn gave in. He usually did, knowing that he had always been able to cope with Xhareen’s demands, no matter how strange or impossible they sounded.

But this request? This request was virtually unbearable.

“Put this on Quinn. You’re acting like an ornery child,” she goaded.

“I cannot. How could you even think this would be a good disguise? Clearly, you hit your head when you fell earlier.”

She took the heavy, brown robe that reeked of dust and unfolded it. “You’re so evil. You know how hard it is for me to get mad at you,” she said as she held the right arm up and waited for him to slip it on.

“Please, trust me, Malavai. I’ve had to sneak on and off so many planets in the past year. This really is the easiest way to do it.”

Just the words “easiest way” made him grimace. “No one will ever believe I’m a Jedi,” he protested. He slipped into the robe but made no move to close or adjust it in any way.

“You’re right. That’s why you and I keep our Imperial mouths shut and let Gislaran do the talking. Again, we’ve been through this routine many times. No one questions three Jedi.”

“I don’t have a lightsaber.” He was going to resist as long as he could, in any way possible.

“That’s why you’ll be carrying my offhand.”

“Dammit.”

She laughed. “You thought you could outsmart me on that, hmmm?”

“Shouldn’t I have a blaster? I have a small holdout. I could carry it under the robe.”

“A place this sophisticated certainly has scanner droids. We stick to the plan. If things go sour, you drop back and let Gislaran and I start the fight. Grab a weapon if you can. If we find one, we’ll get it to you. Gislaran knows the drill.”

He had to admit, Xhareen’s choice of a second in his absence had been brilliant. “She is an amazing soldier.”

“Yes, she is. I couldn’t do what I do without her. And we both feel strongly about proving to the rest of the Alliance, and the whole galaxy for that matter, that it is entirely possible for Sith and Jedi to work together and find common ground.”

Quinn stopped Xhareen from fussing over his getup any further, and leaned in and kissed her. “I’m sorry for my resistance, darling. You have done an amazing thing. I will trust your judgment.”

She stepped back. “There, with the hood up, you’ll be fine. Let’s get going, shuttle’s waiting.”

He watched her as she turned to leave the armory, where they kept a rather impressive supply of costumes including the authentically dusty Jedi robes. She had changed. She really was a general now. But she still loved him. He wasn’t going to let her know everything he’d been through in the six years, two weeks and three days he was without her.

He didn’t want to tell her about being in prison, jailed once again for no real crime. But she was warm and naked and in his arms and it slipped out. He felt her bristle with anger, felt her skin get warmer with growing rage before he assured her it was nothing like military prison after Druckenwell, that he’d been treated well, that no harm came to his family.

He didn’t want her to know he had no desire to go back to Dromund Kaas ever again. That he was done being an Imperial. That he had found himself, his true self, roaming the galaxy and then settling down in a hole in the ground on the same planet where he had once known so much shame.

He had come undone, and yet survived. What other proof did he need than that he was going to willingly let himself be introduced as a Jedi to complete strangers on a Republic world?

After the doors closed behind her, he reached into the cabinet where several small vibroknives were kept. It wasn’t unheard of for a Jedi to carry one, and he felt better having something he knew at hand.

~~~~~

Nomi Jenn paced back and forth as she always did under pressure. Mako ran her fingers over the keyboard in front of her with blinding speed, occasionally stopping to touch one of her facial implants.

“You’re sure. Three of them?” she asked the young woman.

“Yes, ma’am. There are three Jedi at the gate, asking to see you.”

“Did they ask by name?”

“No, just for the director of the facility, and that they knew Senya and Arcann had been here.”

“Do you think they’re for real?”

“Give me a moment.” She played the keys a few more times. “There,” she proclaimed, as the computer extracted and reconstituted the faces under the hoods. Three images came up on the screen.

“The two women I can identify. One is, or was, the Jedi Battlemaster and the other … oh, this is interesting. The other is the Outlander, an infamous Sith as we all know. The third one is a man. Ex-Imperial Military officer. He’s also carrying a vibroknife and … let me get a better look but, yeah. His lightsaber hilt matches exactly the one the Sith is wearing.”

The Outlander, a Sith, along with a Jedi and an Imperial officer.

“Let them in, Mako. But have the war droids accompany the guards. I’ll meet them in the holding area. Tell my husband to meet us there, too.”

**Author's Note:**

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